


Loving the Boy more than the Binder

by odamien_inspace



Series: There Can Only Be Love In Albion [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Gay Rights, Hurt Merlin, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Sad, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Character, TransMerlin, binder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-16 11:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odamien_inspace/pseuds/odamien_inspace
Summary: Modern AU-Arthur is madly in love with Merlin, and Merlin is madly in love with him as well. However in Albion right now, the King is refusing gay rights to happen. Uther, Arthur's father, is standing in the way to true love.With homosexuality on the verge of being banned, Arthur must hold together Merlin, their relationship, and his public reputation. Yet when tragedy strikes Merlin, and Arthur is swept away from stopping his father, life gets messy.Can Arthur balance a destiny and save his once and future husband?





	1. It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> SO this is my first Fic and my first chapter so far. I hope it makes sense, and currently is Unbeta-ed. If you wanna join my crew let me know! I hope this is okay??  
> (Also, this fic is kind of like, if Merlin and Arthur's roles were somewhat swapped. Arthur has this destiny to bring peace to the land, and also must save Merlin.)

His binder was too tight. By the time we got back home, after a full day of museums and walking along the streets of London. It had been more than 8 hours and Merlins breathing had become more rapid. When we changed into comfortable clothes, he left his binder on.  
He laid down on the couch, a beer in his hand. Scrolling on his phone, I crawled onto him, giggling along the way. 

“Uh Arthur what are y-hou doing?”  
“Just getting comfy babe.” A smile spreading on both of our faces. Seeing how my ornery demeanor makes him smile, I put my head on his chest. My hands find their way under his sweatshirt. Merlin squirms a little, a giddy laugh escaping his lips as he puts his phone down. His hands play with my hair, I listen to his heart beat. I move my hands higher up his back, and feel a harsh cloth. I lift my head and look at him, breaking our serenity.  
Softly, I say, “Mer-lin.”  
“What?”  
“Don’t play dumb.”  
Merlin just kind of looks at me, giving me a shrug.  
“Babe. You gotta take this off.” I say, sitting up a bit.  
Merlin’s eyes flicker with stubbornness and something else. His face hardens, and he sits up more as well.  
“So what? It doesn’t matter.”

I look at him questioning his motives when he pushes me off a bit and gets up from the couch to the kitchen.  
“Okay. You’ve been wearing that all day. You need to take it off. Merls, please. I don’t want you hurt.”  
“Like you’d notice.”

I stand up from the couch, anger bubbling in my veins.  
“Oh yes Merlin. I wouldn’t notice when you were hurting. It’s not like I love you or anything.”  
If the love of my life thinks he can say that I don’t care about him, then he needs to buckle up.

Merlin’s back is to me but I see him tense up. He doesn’t say anything in time to stop me from spewing words out. In my confused, angry and sarcastic tone, I tell Merlin why I care so much about him. 

“Merlin. I love you. These silicone bands on our ring fingers, don’t mean nothing. They mean that I will care for you. And care about you. Saying that I wouldn’t notice you hurt? Merlin. Yes I may be a prat, but babe. I count the days you don’t smile, I count the hours you wear your binder. I make sure that when we drink you don’t drink more than you can take. You are my only friend Merlin. My only Love. I’m hurt, that you would say something like that.” 

By the time I’m done talking I want Merlin to look at me, so I make my way into the kitchen. I get in front of him and grab his cold hands. Tears are threatening to fall from his beautiful brown eyes. He mumbles something that I can’t hear, lips trembling as he refuses to show emotion. He sucks in a big breath and forces his tears to not fall. 

“I’m not a man without it Arthur.”

Merlin’s face breaks a bit, but he tries to hold himself together. Pulling his soft hands away from my callused ones, he moves away from me. I look at him, completely and utterly confused. 

Merlin is the best man I know. He’s the bravest and most courageous person alive. He has been Merlin for so long, I forget that there’s something torturing him. I forget his past. Because to me, he has been himself his whole life.  
There was nothing before Merlin. Just Merlin in a different light.  
If you looked at a picture of him before and after, you can’t even recognize him. He has become the most handsome man I have ever met. Only he doesn’t see that sometime. I wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror. The man I know, and love desperately, or a shadow of who he might have been once?  
I felt bad, because, Merlin is still recovering from a phalloplasty surgery. His scars barely healing. I want to help him as much as possible, and if top surgery is the next one, then we will do it.

“Mer-lin. You are the best man I know. You know that chest surgery is the next step. But we have to wait. It’s only been two and a half months since your last one. You’re not fully recovered. I don’t want you in any danger.”  
“Arthur! Just dont. You can’t fix me. I’m broken.” Merlin storms away, putting as much distance between us as possible. Maybe if I just let him be, he will be better later and we can talk about it then.  
I go to the bedroom door and say, “We’re going to talk about this tomorrow, I’m sorry if I said anyth-“  
“Just leave me alone.”

And with those words floating through the air, and underneath the door into my ears, I go to the couch.  
I finish both of our beers and grab some more.  
By the time I fall asleep, my stomach is churning with worry and alcohol. 

————————

By the time I’m up and going Merlin is gone. I try to call him but all I get is his voicemail.  
‘Great. Now we’re fighting. Again.’  
I get dressed, and head to work for the day. It was going to be a long day too. Press Conferences, paparazzi, delegations, and redundant meetings.  
It was all too much, but with my best suit on and Merlins favorite tie, I scribble a note down a lay it on the counter. 

“Merlin, Today’s a busy day so I won’t be home until late. Eat something and don’t wait up. I love you, Call me when you’re home.”

 

————————  
I’m fucking exhausted. I trudge into another conference room, paparazzi crowding me. Asking me questions that pry into my personal life. 

“Arthur whats it like knowing your Father doesn’t support Gay Marriage?”  
Arthur this and Arthur that. God cant the find something else to do?

Some pricks who were standing outside of the Albion State Affairs Building were protesting everything we were debating about. But mostly protesting same sex marriage.  
They were holding those awful signs, and yelling terrible things. I just wanted rip them apart.  
While walking to the car that was waiting for me, I thought about my father. How his illness has taken over his life. How I’m losing pieces of him every day. I’m stuck, loving my father, but hating him. He thought that same sex marriage should be banned from all of Albion. When I was younger I thought, maybe my father was right. It certainly wasn’t popular when I was younger. 

But now? I’m in love with the most beautiful man ever.  
His brown-black hair, and small frame. His lips, his neck... shit.  
Merlin hasn’t called me yet and he should have called at least an hour ago. 

Snapping out of my dream world, I’m back in the car. I grab my phone out of my briefcase. Hoping to see a call  
I mean, it’s 8 pm and I still have some more papers to sign back at the other office. Merlin gets off at 6 pm. It’s been two hours?  
I whisper to myself, “What the hell Merlin.” Anger and disappointment rising in my body. Shifting forward for the driver to hear me, I ask him to drive me to the apartment.  
I call Merlin’s cell, just to tell him that the papers can wait and I want to be with him. All I get, however, is his voicemail. So I try again.  
Voicemail.  
I shoot him a text telling him that I’m coming home. And that we can order the type of pizza that he likes. Anything he wants. 

 

After an agonizing hour of London traffic I finally made it back home. Keys jingling, I opened the apartment door. When I enter I see that all the lights are off, which is unusual.  
“Merlin?”  
There’s silence, and I flip the lights on. 

From the bathroom a panicked yell rips through the air.  
“Arthur!”  
My heart leaps as I run to the bathroom, slamming against the door. I can hear Merlin, muttering my name and asking for help. 

“Merlin! I need you to unlock the door.” I slam my hand against the door.  
“Merlin!!” 

When the door opens, he’s sitting on the ground, shirtless, leaning against the tub. He’s crying. And..  
“Oh.. God.. Merlin...”  
“I’m sorry.. Arthur..”  
I quickly get on the ground and pull Merlin towards me. His ribcage is bruised black and blue. It looks like he got beaten up. 

'He looks like he got beaten up'

Before I could think this statement through, the possibility of someone laying a finger on Merlin, I see crimson red on his arm.  
I grab a blue towel nearby and put pressure on it, but Merlin pulls away. 

“NO! Stop. Just let me die...”  
I look up into his brown eyes. Pain echoes there.  
“Merlin. Don’t.” My voice drops down, and a low rumble escapes my throat as I tie the towel around Merlins wrist.  
I get him up, and put him on the couch. He sits down, staring straight ahead, not showing a single emotion. He holds his arms around his chest, shielding away what he is ashamed of. Merlin whispers “Shirt.” So I go into our bedroom and grab one of my t-shirts. He slips it on.  
Tears freely flowing down his face. 

Kneeling in front of Merlin, I grab his arm, lightly and turn it so the damage is facing me.  
“Let me see.” He unclenches his fist, relaxing as much as he wills himself. Leaning his body on my side/shoulder while I lift the towel off his wrist. 

Fear.  
Sadness.  
Confusion and hurt. 

Merlin is whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again. The towel is sticky with the red liquid. There are 5 cuts. Horizontal, but deep.  
The blood is slow to rise, like the ocean before a tsunami. The blue icy depths recede back into the sandy bottoms, leaving shells and beauty behind. Only to bring pain and sadness once the waters return.  
Once the wounds don’t have pressure, they start up again. 

The driver. My car is still at the office. Crap. 

“Merlin, come on. We are gunna see if Leon is home yeah?”  
Merlin doesn’t respond, a blank stare, as if he has left himself.  
I heave Merlin up. An arm around my shoulder, with my arm around his hip, we walk over to Leon’s. His apartment is next door, and I’m praying to the gods that he’s home.  
With a knock, and a worried expression, we were in Leon’s car soon enough.  
I sat in the back with Merlin, when he started shaking and his color started draining from him. I realize there’s an enormous amount of blood on my hands and shirt. I grip Merlin's shoulders. Urging him on. Telling him to stay awake, and that we were almost there.  
He laughed at some of the things I said to him. I don’t remember what it was though. 

Once at the hospital the ER took him away from me. Leon waited with me. I don’t know what they did, or how long it took. I don’t know if Leon and I had to get up to go to a different waiting area. I don’t remember.  
I just remember the blood. The bruises.  
The way Merlin screamed my name when I came home.  
The panic in his voice. Why wasn’t I there? I shouldn’t have left him last night. He’s all I’ve got. I can’t lose him. 

I can’t lose him.  
————————  
————————


	2. How we Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur meet at Oxford, their first time every clashing their lives together. The current situations remind Arthur of how they met, and how much has changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, So just a slight warning, there is an implied suicidal tendency mention, and the word faggot used. So like, yeah. Homophobia sucks.

In University I was studying for a business major. I was studying at Oxford, only because of my father’s wishes, and I was taking part in the student-led football program. That was when I first met Merlin. Merlin was most definitely the hottest guy I have ever met. Everyone wanted to get to know him, he was all the Oxford girls could talk about. 

“Did you see that, Merlin guy out in the courtyard?”  
“Yeah! Heard He’s about to make some big mathematical discovery eh?”

When the team would go out to play I would see him, standing in front of his professor or a group of other students wildly gesturing towards the sky and the ground. Often times I could catch what he was saying, but did I understand it? No, not really. Yes, I understand math, but this man wasn’t talking about the type of math you learn when you were younger. He was talking about math that could figure out time. He understood and used words that were practically beyond his professors. Hell, he was double majoring, at Oxford! As our first year went on, I hoped maybe one day I could get the chance to meet him.  
Once it started getting colder in the fall, I didn’t see him venture outside anymore. Until one day, he had rolls of paper in his arms, some contraption, and he had a pencil behind his ear. The boys and I were playing soccer, one of them muttered, “There’s the local fag.”  
Before the statement got any backlash, the boy drop-kicked the ball straight at Merlin.  
I yelled, “Watch Out.” But the poor chap didn’t hear anything, he was too invested in his work. The ball came flying down and hit him square in the face. He fell over, all the items he was carrying flopping everywhere. I ran towards him, angry at my fellow teammates. I can hear some of them snicker and some of them telling the others to shut up.  
When I get to his side, he looks like he’s trying not to cry, and I realize that he’s holding his arm and there is blood coming from his nose. 

“Shit. Are you okay?”  
He looks up at me. My breath is taken away, I see that he, in fact, is more handsome up close than from afar. He looked at me a bit dazed and confused.

“Uh, my wrist. It hurts...” I help the poor chap up and pick up all of the stuff that’s on the ground. When I reach for the metal contraption he frantically grabs it before me, looks at it as if it’s wounded. And when I give him a strange look, he says, “This is something that I’ve been working on since the beginning of the year, and it’s almost done. I’m sorry... Uh, listen. I think my wrist is.. Broken?”  
As he says this, I realize that I can see some of his bone pushing against his skin, yet he isn’t even shedding a tear or whining like a big baby.  
When I’ve been staring for too long he says, “I’m Merlin, I’d shake your hand, but…”  
“Oh yeah, Uh.. yeah let’s get you to the nurses. Yeah?” 

With a nod of the head, we were off, I gave him my jacket to wrap his wrist with and to catch some of the blood pouring from his face. After a long walk, we make it to the nurses, they whisk him away to stop the bleeding and to send him to the emergency room.  
Gaius the Headmaster over the science department stopped me before I left Merlin in the care of the Nurses.  
“Arthur, Listen, I was hoping you could take Merlin to the Emergency Room? He doesn’t have a roommate or his own car. And if I may be frank, the poor boy doesn’t have any friends besides the professors here.”  
“Yeah, of course Gaius.”

After the nurses wrapped the wrist as well as they could, and stopped the bleeding from Merlin’s nose, I called my father’s car service. They showed up quickly. Merlin and I hopped into the back. Wincing with pain, Merlin shifts, ending up in leaning against me slightly. 

Looking over at me, sarcastically he says, “You don’t talk much. Do you?”  
I looked at him, more so where our shoulders met.  
“Oof, I’m sorry mate, you probably don’ want tha local faggot to touch you.” He looks away, I suppose that my face had held some disgust in it. I wasn’t used to being touched. I wasn’t used to someone’s weight leaning against me.  
Before I could say something to him, to let him know that I’m not homophobic, he exclaims, “Wait a bloody minute. You’re the King’s Son. You’re Arthur. Oh god. No wonder you haven’t been talking to me. Sorry to interrupt your day with my gay.”  
I laugh at this statement and shake my head. ‘This boy is foolish.’ 

I then say, “Yes, I am my father’s son. But I do not agree with my father’s stance on LGBT matters. I do not think of you as being the ‘local faggot’. There’s something about you Merlin, that I can’t put my finger on.”

He looks at me, a small smile spreading across his face as I feel the tension leave the car. Once at the Emergency room, I help Merlin inside and wait for him as they cast him up and get him fixed. It was a quick visit, given the fact that I’m the Prince and everyone there made Merlin a priority. The doctors said that the break wasn’t too bad and that it could have been worse. An’ that in two months or so Merlin’s arm will be back to new.  
They gave him some pain pills and a prescription for later. When we were back in the confines of the car, Merlin, who was slightly high off of what the doctors gave him said, “Please don’t let me take those pills home.”  
He pulls a smile, laughing as if something was extremely funny. 

“Merlin, just be quiet. You’re high.”  
“I’m High? You’re Merlin.”  
“No Merlin. Your name is Merlin, my name is Arthur.” An exasperated sigh escaped my lips, Merlin heard it and instantly his demeanor changed.  
“Ar-rthur. I’m sorry... Please d-don’t be mad at me.”  
Quizzically I ask, “Why would you think I’m mad at you?”  
Merlin opens his mouth a bit, then shuts it, as if the words were about to escape. Turning his head so he can look out the window. I look at him.  
‘There’s something there.’

\-----------------

Merlin fell asleep as soon as I put him on his bed. The doctors said that he might have a slight concussion and that he shouldn’t be left alone or asleep.

“I guess we’re having a night in…huh, Merlin?”  
He’s snoring away.  
‘I wonder if he has any movies or something. I don’t want to sit here just staring at him like some weirdo. Maybe in this ca-’  
“Arthur..”  
I stop dead in my tracks. Turning my head to the source of the noise, I notice that Merlin is still asleep. ‘What the hell? Did.. no. Nah Nah, I’m just hearing things. Right?’

Stepping towards the cabinet I wanted to investigate, I knock over a few books. Bending over to pick them up, cringing at every noise I make, I notice a letter sitting on the ground. The letter’s address is to “Whom It May Concern”  
Curiosity getting the best of me, I look at the letter. Now I know that privacy is important, but this letter just felt… off.

 

‘To anyone who cares,  
If you are reading this, then I am sorry. I hope that you do not blame yourself.’

 

“Arthur, what are you doing?”  
Merlin is sitting up and looking at me, looking at the letter in my hands.  
“Oh I uh, knocked this over and uh..”  
“I don’t go into your room and snoop around do I? Just because you’re a prat doesn’t mean you have the right to snoop.” He stands up, trying his best to seem like he still isn’t reeling from the drugs.  
“I’m sorry, a what?”  
“I called you a prat.” He looks at me defiance in his expression.

“Okay, bud. Listen, I didn’t have to help you get to the nurse. I didn’t have to give you my jacket, which by the way, has a bunch of blood on it. I also didn’t have to take you to the hospital, or bring you back. You realize I could have left you sitting on the courtyard ground?”  
I cross my arms, willing him to push this ‘prat’ business further. But he just looks around, heartbroken.  
“Yeah I know, you didn’t have to. So why did you?”

I look around, and up at him. I take his features in fully, the way his lips are chapped. Eyes sunken in, as if he hasn’t slept in a long time. How his shoulders were broad but dropped as if the weight of the world rested on them. His hair was a brownish-black, but it was sticking up in random places. It looked like it had been fluffed, and ruffled. I took in his room. Mathematical papers everywhere, books in piles. French vocabulary words hung up around the room. And he had a bunch of plants on the windowsill by his bed.  
But his eyes demanded my attention, he huffed, making his question linger even longer. As if time wouldn’t continue until I told him why I helped him.  
Time would continue unless I told him that the subconscious mind is one that plays tricks.  
Setting the letter, which obviously is a sore subject, onto a desk nearby. I put my hands on my sides, demanding that my decisions to say this out loud is mine and mine alone.  
Willing my princely attitude to melt away so I’m just Arthur.

“I feel like I’ve known you for a long time. As if we had met in a past life.”  
Merlin still stares at me, with less anger and more of a distrust in his eyes.  
So I take a deep breath, open my mouth and say, “Merlin. I wanted to help you, because. I..”

‘Just say something Arthur. Fill up the space with a lie.’  
“I wanted to help you because I didn’t like how the football team was treating you.” 

Merlin huffs even louder this time, “Well you’re about a few months too late.”  
He sits back down on the bed and runs his hand through his brownish-black hair. I move through the labyrinth of books and papers to sit next to him.  
“What do you mean?”  
I sit close enough so he knows I’m there, but far enough that we aren’t touching. I’m hyper-aware of our proximity. With a sigh and a teasing look, Merlin delves into a story. Well, it wasn’t a make-believe story, it was a story of him two months ago walking home.  
It was a story of how the team’s old captain and the junior captain didn’t like Merlin.  
It was a story that ended up with Merlin laying in an alleyway. Bruised and Broken.  
It also ended with the captain being kicked out of Oxford, and the Junior Capitan taking over.  
It ended with Merlin having to phone his mother and tell her that he’ll be coming home for a few days. That he’ll have bruises on his chest and a broken nose.

Then Merlin looked at me, smiling, as if the sorrow in his story wasn’t actually him. 

Then I leaned in and kissed him.  
And he kissed me back. 

 

\-------------------------

 

'Soft lips and soft breaths. Pulling me closer. My hands in his hair.'  
I jolt awake. The hospital chair unbelievably awful to sit in. There’s nothing more I want than for Merlin to open his eyes again. God. Why wasn’t I home earlier? Why did I have to get so anal about him wearing his binder?  
There was so much blood. So much.  
A cold sharp hiss escapes Merlin’s lips as he wakes up. His eyes barely opening, his lips chapped beyond belief, and his arm bandaged and wrapped up. He turns his head so his eyes rest on me. 

“Hey Merls baby, I’m here. I’m here. You want some water?”  
He nods his head a bit, a pained look in the exact movement. Putting a straw to his lips to let him sip water, I move his hair back out of the way. When he’s done drinking, he lifts his arm, the one with the IV, and grabs my hand.  
Whispering, barely audible over the noises of the hospital, “I’m sorry Arthur.”

A few tears escape his eyes, and I just grip his hand as if this physical connection will make him better. As if it would heal him. 

He moves his head around to see the room, flowers and balloons everywhere. His eyebrows shoot downwards as he thinks, and then looks at me, a question floating in his head.

“How long have we been here?”  
I sit down, holding his hand with both of mine, planting a kiss on his.  
“We’ve been here for two weeks Merls. The doctors couldn’t get you to wake up. You’ve been in a coma... Merls, I thought I was going to lose you.”  
I’m trying to hold it together, but I just can’t keep my composure proper. I love this man lying before me. Yet he does not want to live anymore. If he died, I wouldn’t be whole. I’d be missing a piece of me. I wouldn’t want to go on.  
I love Merlin. I would fight a thousand armies for him.

Merlin looks at me, laying his head down on the pillow, “Lay with me. Please.”  
He moves over so I can lay with him. He’s cradled in my arms, the bandage rubbing against my arm. I worry, over the scars, over the pain. I hold Merlin as if everything bad would have to get through me to get to him. 

We fall asleep like this. Merlin in my arms. My arms around Merlins. Our bodies become one, and I am not fearful of what the media is saying. Or of what my father is thinking. I do not care. Because I have Merlin and Merlin has me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Chapter. Arthur relives the first time the ever met each other, and well, Merlin is a clutz. Hope you enjoyed? Honestly, I'm just trying this out and I don't know if it will even work out well. Oh well. If you have any feedback or anything.


	3. Long Term

“Arthur, you realize that the press have been waiting out there for weeks. They’re going to rip you to shreds.”  
Gwaine, my trusted friend, plops down on the hospital couch, munching on some of Merlin’s hospital food. I told Gwaine to not touch his food because Merlin needed to eat but Gwaine doesn’t listen to me.   
“Oi you know Merlin needs to eat right? But with you eating all his food, there's no way he's gonna build up his strength.”

“I'm sorry your highness, but have you tasted this stuff. Merlin couldn’t find nutrients in this food if he wanted to!”  
“Hey guys. Stop talking about me as if I’m not here.” Merlin hobbles into the room, his psychiatrist following closely. Motioning to me to follow him into the hall, I get up, kiss Merlins cheek and go. 

“As we’ve talked before, we know that Merlin has suffered with depression and anxiety for a long time.” Dr. Kilgarah looks over at Merlin, and back at me. A pained echo in his eyes. I can see the pain.   
I fear what he is going to say. 

“Merlin has asked me to tell you what he and I have been discussing these past few weeks. If you would sit down with me… Arthur. Merlin loves you, and loves how you stand up to your father and how you’ve been there for him. I don’t want you to doubt yourself. You know about the bullying that has taken place in Merlins life, throughout primary and secondary school. But there are things that have taken place that Merlin’s subconscious has buried. Now, I ask you to take this as calmly as possible.”  
Kilgarah looks at me, shifting in his white coat. Old age crowding his face as if he’s seen a thousand patients families sitting in this same chair.   
“Merlin’s mother dated a man. He… well he hurt Merlin. Physically and emotionally. Merlin’s brain buried all of the trauma-”  
“Trauma? W-What do you mean?”  
“Well, the main thing that we have been discussing Arthur, is when Merlin was about 10 he was locked in a hallway closet for a day and a half. The whole time he heard his mother get hurt, and when, Odin, that the man’s name, when he was done with Hunith. He would go and abuse Merlin.”  
He stops talking, looking back towards Merlin’s room. I know that this happened to Merlin but I can’t help feeling like the whole world is falling off of its axis. Feeling rage towards this, Odin, man. For hurting Merlin and Hunith. However, I don’t want to make anything about me. This is about Merlin getting better. But if I need to beat that guy’s face in, to help progress Merlin’s health, then I don’t mind breaking my hand.  
Swallowing, I look at Dr. Kilgarah, a thousand questions coursing through my mind. 

“Is there anything I can do to help him with his recovery?”  
“Well, I think that we need to put Merlin into a long term facility. Somewhat like a rehab center, but it helps people who have mental illnesses. Merlin would only be away for a month or two, depending on his progress. It would be furthering the progress that we have been making. It would also include changing the medication he is on, or upping it at least. And then when everything is done, I suggest some sort of trip away from London.”

I nod, taking in this information. “Will Merlin even come home before going to this.. Rehab type of place?”  
“I don’t think so Arthur. It would be better to just go there.”  
“But Dr. he’s been away from home for nearly three weeks, we haven’t had a chance to even, I don’t know exist. Without a fucking nurse interrupting our conversations.”  
Kilgarah looks at me, as if I am a fool. Which I am. Realizing what I’ve said, I rub my face with my hands.   
“Dr. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean it. I just want Merlin to be okay. I just, want Merlin to be okay..”

\--------------

After Gwaine left, and I brought real food to Merlin we talked about the long term stay that Kilgarah is suggesting. We both agreed that it is the best thing to do. We also talked about the abuse, but I did not want to push Merlin into talking. He seemed, uncomfortable that I brought it up. So I just grabbed his hand, leaning in and kissing his forehead. After Merlin got done eating the sandwich I brought him, he asked to take a shower.   
With the Nurse’s go-ahead, I helped Merlin with it.

Taking off the shirt he was wearing, and the sweats, I see how much weight he’s lost. His pale skin shivering against the cold, his shaky hands as he sits down on the lid of the toilet, not having enough energy to stand for so long. His ribs a slight black and blue still. I take his socks off, and he extends his arm out.   
Kneeling in front of him, I start to gently take the gauze off. He hisses when we get to the base of the gauzes. The scars still fresh, the muscle that was torn apart, the irritated skin. Tears started forming in my eyes. But I didn’t want Merlin to know that I’m still broken hearted over all of this. I take my clothes off as well, that way I can help him stand in the shower.  
Once he gets up I tug his boxers off, and lead him under the already warm water. I do help him stand up but, most of the time my arms are just wrapped around his chest or his waist. 

“Arthur,” Merlin whispers while the water cools down slightly, “I love you.” He turns around and plants a kiss on my lips, and I can feel our first step towards healing take place.  
“I love you too, and I’ll always be here for you.”  
“My personal cabbage head.”  
“Hey now.. That’s not fair. I’m helping you shower.”  
Merlin laughs lifting his head towards the sky, it’s a sound that I haven’t heard in weeks. 

I smile, kissing Merlin’s neck, “Merls, I would travel across the universe just to hear that noise again.”  
“You won’t have to love.” Merlin lays his head against my chest, letting the water run over us. His brown-black locks plastering themselves to my chest, I can feel him take in a big breath, like it’s the first time he’s breathed in the past minute.   
He quietly says, “You won’t have to travel the world, because I’m going to get better Arthur. For us.”


	4. The Press

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so for a part of this I took inspiration from the movie Remember Me when Tyler has a huge fight with his father and they almost fist fight.  
> Yeah... Hope you like it, sorry it's a short chapter but I've been super busy! Thank you! Also, any feedback is wonderful.

“Arthur! You are humiliating me out there, do you realize how important the Pendragon name is? I am the king and you are my son. You are the prince over Albion. How do you not see that you are bringing shame to our name?” Uther, my father, spits out these words like venom. The cabinet sitting along the sides of the press conference room while he sits at the end of the table. All he needs is his crown and it’s like we are back in the 16th Century. I’m standing at the other end of the table, just listening to my father. I couldn’t put him off any longer, and it’s been a week since I last saw Merlin. Hopefully he won’t see the news this week.

“Arthur, will you bloody answer me? I’m tired of this fight you are putting up. For what, some no good, trannie? Who isn’t even a real boy? I am tired of the shame you are bringing this family.” He huffs, as if what he has said is final. But he doesn’t realize that his “kingdom” is merely held up by people who listen to me. I could give the people one bullet and they would start a full out war against my father.  
Yet, he sits in this conference room, where the light shines down on him and his cabinet members. The light makes them look human, however they are mere robots, not caring about anyone’s well being. All they care about is money, and land.  
My father’s trusted right hand man, Agravaine, speaks up at this point. Noting how the silence has gone on for too long.  
“Arthur, what your father and this cabinet is trying to say, is that it doesn’t look good. This whole thing with this person, Merlin, with them being well… the way they are. And you being the prince. It just doesn't look good for us. You openly disagreeing with your father.” Agravaine glances at my father, hoping that what he’s said hasn’t been too much. But my father keeps a steely stare on me. Never faltering. I can almost feel his disgust and hatred. 

“Father, Agravaine, and beloved cabinet. You say that you are ashamed of me, but I feel that you should be proud of me. Proud of who I am, and who I will become. One day I will become king.” I pause, taking in all the old faces that are staring at me. Some of them look scared to be in my presence. Some of them look scared of Uther’s presence.

“The thing you may often forget, is that I am a Pendragon. I hold myself with honour. I only care for the people, and what they want without letting old, bigoted ways cloud my judgement. Father. You sit there and you claim that I bring shame. But you do not know the nation that you rule over then, the people, they hate you. They can’t wait for you to stop ruling over this nation. Because you are causing pain and misery wherever you are. Y-You are too trapped in a cloud of judgment, to realize th-that you are causing all these issues.”  
By this time, the whole room is staring at me, and my father has dropped the icy gaze he had. He looks old, and uncertain.  
“I work in the Albion State of Affairs, I am there debating, and talking everyday. I am the one planning things, and putting things into action. And what do you do father? You go onto telly and you say such awful things about these wonderful humans. You talk about gay people as if they shouldn’t exist. And let me tell you, the way things are going, people are terrified to even come out as gay, or anything in the LGBT+ community. The Albion State Affairs conducted a poll, and you know what? The people of this country are afraid of execution.”  
A collective gasp from the room tells me that they never knew of their actions, and my father has lost all of his courage. Sitting there like he’s defeated. Perhaps he is.  
There are many things that I want to say to this council, I want to grab their shoulders and shake them awake. I want to tell them that we don’t live in a time when being apart of the LGBT+ community is bad. That it is good. I just want them to understand and to let this nation live. 

I want kids to not be afraid of parents, I want Merlin to not be worried about other people. I want all the pain and the suffering that has happened to anyone to go away.  
I do not want my father to be king. 

I look him dead on, and he matches my gaze however, weaker. I slam my hands onto the wooden table. Red hot rage threatening to erupt.

Then, I bring in the personal touch, I make this argument about myself and Morgana.

“Uther Pendragon. I sent you a wedding invite and you didn’t come. You didn’t come Dad. You have a son, who sincerely believes you hate him. I mean, I’m talking, I’m trying to communicate. But why aren’t you listening? Why aren’t you rivid? Why am I, why is my happiness, my fucking wedding, not the most important thing to you?” 

By this time I’ve started to yell. My father has stood up from his chair, it seems like he is angry as well. Only, he’s angry because I’m defying him in front of his cabinet. Because I am making him look like a fool.  
His cabinet starts to stand up, one brave soul says, “We could come back..” but my father motions for them to sit down. That it’s fine.  
He glances at me, shoving his hands into his pockets, keeping a steady voice, “You know that I will provide for you. And that I love you.”  
“We really can come bac-”  
“Sit the Fuck down. Now.” Uther yells, everyone freezes in their place. I realize that my father is a lost cause. I lean onto my heels, tears forming in my eyes. Delirium setting in.  
The conference room falls silent, I know what I’m going to say. I know how to push Uther.  
My voice is low, and gravelly. Breaking as if I’m going to cry.

“See, you didn’t find her. I found her. And you’re so, just tragically blind.. That the rest of your children are gunna hang themselves on your watch.”  
“Why you little-”  
Uther storms towards me, everyone in the conference room jolts up, holding him back. Holding me back. Yelling over everyone, I manage one last word.  
“Morgana hated you. You made her life a living hell. No need to pull everyone else down with you!”  
I’m getting shoved out of the room, my presence no longer needed. I make my exit. I can hear my father huffing, and yelling about everything I said.  
He knows I’m right.  
I storm out of the whole building, wishing that the skyscraper wasn’t there. Wishing that there weren’t reporters waiting outside, catching my crying eyes. I wish that I could visit Morgana’s grave without someone following me. I wish Merlin didn’t try to join her.  
\---  
Later that night, alone in my flat, I see the news. They’re talking about how I walked out of the building crying. How it was the anniversary of Morgana’s death.  
I stand up, feeling this empty feeling, knowing that the love of my life is sick and alone someplace strange and that my sister is dead.  
I rummage through the kitchen, grabbing all of the alcohol. There’s enough.  
And that’s all I need.

\---

The next morning, when I’m standing in front of a press conference I realize that right now was the worst time to have a hangover. The questions quickly became too much and I practically was a nonverbal, hungover mess.

“Arthur, Arthur. What was talked about yesterday at your meeting with your father?”  
“Are you ashamed to have your crying face all over tellie?”  
“How is your boyfriend Merlin? Will we get any word on why he’s in the hospital still?”  
“Rumor has it that your father is going to give up the crown, is that true?”

What?

“I’m sorry could you repeat that question?”  
The reporter looks up to me, “Well, everyone has been talking, this morning your father talked on the news about maybe putting the crown away. He made it seem like it was merely a rumor, but is this true?”  
“Uh, it’s merely a rumor, my father wouldn’t let the crown go. You’d have to pry that thing out of his hands.” At this the reporters laughed and then they moved on.

However, I could only obsess over this knowledge. Maybe my father just wants to keep the press on him, and off of anyone else. Maybe he’s realized what a prick he is, and wants to give up the crown. Let the glory days melt away. Maybe?


	5. The Challenge and The Drunk

The media was going crazy. Every news station had my face or my father’s face plastered on it. More importantly, it had a picture of us arguing. ‘The King Vs The Prince’. That’s all they could talk about. The press hung out around my father’s mansion and my apartment building. I couldn’t go anywhere without some dutiful follower snapping pictures for the next day’s newspaper. A week after my father and I’s big argument, he went public with what I stood for and how we were fighting. He talked about the crown and the kingdom of Albion. 

He painted this picture, of some estranged boy capturing my attention (Aka. Merlin) and forcing me to push my father away, and that now that the “estranged boy” was gone, I was having a mental breakdown.

Gwaine stayed by my side as the weeks went on, being my personal bodyguard. We went and visited Merlin as much as possible. But, eventually the attention was too much, and the press started overstepping boundaries (more than usual). Leon,(the neighbor that helped me take Merlin to the hospital) continually checked up on me. Knocking on my door every now and then offering food and a movie to watch. He practically kept me sane.

 

I missed Merlin though. I missed his warmth at night and the way he held my hand when we went to the market. The way his hair would be fluffy no matter what time of day, and how he wouldn’t let anyone run a brush through it. The empty flat didn’t bode well for me, it was an aching reminder of what happened. Some days when I walked through the flat’s door, I almost expected Merlin there again, laying in a pool of blood. My imagination became best friends with anxiety during the first few weeks. I didn’t want to walk into my flat some days. 

Others, it felt like I couldn’t get in there soon enough. Cameras became my worst enemy, television a foe, and magazines a nightmare. 

 

My father was enjoying how the media was painting me. They loved it all. Hell the moment the press sinks their teeth into something, they aren’t letting go easily. 

 

__ “Albion’s Gay Prince soon to be King?”   
“How do you feel about a Gay King?”   
“Uther vs. Arthur: The showdown”

 

It was quite amusing at first, seeing what they could make the catchiest. But amusement wears off after the thrill of the ride happens. There’s always an end to the high.

They stopped painting pictures of their gay prince, but of his partner. They stopped talking about me and started talking about Merlin. 

  
  


\------

 

“Hey Merls!” I lean in and give him a kiss. A smile spreading across his face, one that lights up the room. Yet, the room we occupy feels too foreign. His brown eyes practically flash with gold as his happiness explodes. We talk a lot about what is going on in our lives.

 

“I think I’ll be able to come home soon Arthur, the doctors say I’m making great progress even though I’ve only been here a short while. They think that another two weeks or so and I’ll be good.” He looks at me, pulling a thread out of his sleeve. There is uncertainty in his eyes, he looks tired as if he hasn’t had a good nights sleep in a while. But he looks, alive. Like he’s yearning for life. 

 

“Once I’m done here, maybe we can go out to the English Lake district, hike the Whiteless Pike? Ya know if you’re up to it?”

“Oh, yeah... Totally Merls. I can make some reservations.”

  
  


“Arthur?” Merlin’s tone turns serious, and I feel my heart speeding up slightly. He looks around, unable to maintain the eye contact he was holding seconds ago. I feel like I know where this conversation is going. I say a quick, yeah, just to encourage him to ask me whatever it is.

 

“Your father… He wants us to be over doesn’t he?”

“Merlin…”

“People are talking Arthur. I’m just some strange kid from a small village name Ealdor. Okay, like. I’ve missed you desperately, but the King is out to get me because I’m gay. The  _ King  _ for fuck's sake!”

“So? I am the Prince, the one who is fighting for the crown. Fighting for  _ us _ , for happiness.” I turn defensive, and I can see Merlin’s whole demeanor change. He crosses his arm, furrows his brow and looks at me like he’s burning a hole into my forehead.

 

“Arthur. You deserve someone who is better and less of a freak. Okay. I don’t want you to stay by my side just for sympathy or for an upper hand on your father because you’re with some charity case.”

“Merlin. You are not a charity case. Where is this coming from?” I lean forward, begging Merlin to just give me his hand. But he won’t move. He looks down, almost ashamed?

 

“The residents here have been talking, Jim, he’s a buddy. He got his hand on some... Newspapers and I know what they’re saying. What they’re saying about you, about us, about me. Arthur… Why didn’t you tell me this last time we talked? They’ve been raving on about all of this since I got admitted.”

“I know, I know.. And I’m sorry okay. Please…” I hold my hand out across the table. He unfolds his defensive demeanor and puts his soft hand in mine. I let out a breath, relieved in this comfort. 

Clearing my throat I continue.

 

“Merlin... My father is challenging me. That’s why the press is so vicious.”

“How so? What do you mean?”

  
“I mean, he is breaking years of tradition, to see who the rightful heir of the throne is… He’s letting the people of Albion vote. We are going to have an ‘election’ of sorts. Me against my father and my father against me. That’s why he’s been slandering our names. That’s why the press is tearing me apart and hurting you along the way. And I am so sorry. I am doing everything in my power to stop them.”

 

Merlin leans forward, giving a quizzical look. 

“He can’t do that, can he?”

“He’s the King. I suppose he can do whatever he pleases to do.” I lean back in my chair, letting out a huff in response. I am scared of my father and his power. I don’t want Merlin to know that though, I don’t want him to think I’m struggling while he’s gone. He doesn’t need any extra stress, and this press stuff isn’t helping.

It makes me feel helpless like I’m drowning in a sea of pain and politics. (Isn’t that how it always is though?)

Merlin speaks up, breaking my train of thought.

 

“Arthur. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”   
“Leaving you.”

“Almost.” I interject. He didn’t leave. Yes he was close, but he’s not gone.

“Still. I know what you’ve been through... with Morgana.” He pauses, squeezing my hand, and then he whispers in the softest voice, that I have to strain to hear him.

“I’m sorry you spent the anniversary of her death alone. I wish I was there for you.”

 

I can see his regret plastered on his face, and I know that Merlin usually doesn’t have himself opened up like this for me to see. He usually puts on a brave face, sticking to what he’s best at.

He knows numbers and math, he knows equations and calculated answers. His heart was on his sleeve. And it felt like the Merlin I met so long ago on some field in University, is back.

After sitting in silence, then talking, then silence again, my time with Merlin was up. Visiting day was over and I promised to come next week. 

He gave me a kiss on the cheek before I left, and he squeezed my arm. Looking up at me, he mouthed ‘I love you.’

 

_ ‘I love you too.’ _

  
  
  


\---

 

Getting home from the hospital takes forever. Gwaine was calling me, worried that I wasn’t in the flat. 

“Oi, calm down. You’re not my mother. Stop worrying.”

“The hell you mean Arthur, I can worry all I want. You are the Princess and as far as I know, the press wants your head.”

“More like you want my head.” I was sitting in the back of my personal vehicle. Percival, a substitute for the usual guy that drives me places, snorted at my comment. I smile a bit, amused by the reaction, usually, drivers remain silent and stone-faced. Percival however, seemed amused himself.

 

Gwaine laughs at the comment, and I know full well that he does not want me in any way. It’s a gay joke I guess. 

“You’re just jealous Arthur. That Merlin is still friends with me even though we dated.”

“Oh whatever, you arrogant ass.” I laugh, Merlin and Gwaine..oof. That happened many years ago and they both can laugh about the situation now. 

Knowing full well that Gwaine is in a good mood and the night is young, I ask, “Hey you wanna go to a bar with Leon or something?”

 

“Oh Hell yes.”

 

\---

 

Drunk. Fuzzy. Tired. Sad.

Leon is sober even though, Gwaine and I are not. 

I can feel the beer sloshing around inside my gut. It’s nauseating. We came back to my flat two hours ago with enough beer, vodka, and Smirnoff to last us three nights of decent drinking.

Arthur knows that with beer he can hold out longer, but… something about the frilly, pussy drinks appeal to him tonight.

 

Leon sits as Gwaine laughs and continues pouring liquid down his throat.

 

“Arth.. can I invite this guy over? He’s a real bud. You’ll like him.”

“No. I have a boyfriend already silllly.”

“ I meant. For Me.” Gwaine plays into the whole drunk thing, even though his tolerance is so much more than Arthurs. And Leon just continues to sit there, buzzed, amused by the drunk ramblings. I wish Merlin was here. I honestly do.

 

If Merlin was here, we’d be making out. Or he would be rambling about how he figured out the equation to time, and that all he needed to do was get back into Cambridge. All he needed to do was find a place to work and to fix up the machine that Uther so carelessly broke. He would stand on the couch, holding an empty bottle of wine yelling, “FUck the United Nations!!” And I would be standing there shouting as well. 

We would have sex that we wouldn’t remember, but would only wonder why we are sleeping on the kitchen table.

 

If Merlin was here, I wouldn’t need to get drunk.

 

Leon shakes me by the shoulder, “Arthur, hey are you alright? Maybe we should stop for tonight?”

“No! Are you kidding the party is merely starting!”

 

With that, I grab the vodka and start doing shots. It burns going down, tasting like hospital, tasting like the visit to Merlin.

I take so many shots that I don’t remember throwing up, or crying, or taking a shower. I don’t remember any of that. I don’t remember my head hitting the pillow or the fact that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop crying. I don’t remember when Gwaine’s friend arrived, and I don’t remember when Leon left to his own apartment. I don’t remember letting Gwaine sleep in the guest room.

 

I don’t remember the tears.

I only remember how good it felt to be distant.

To be _detached_ from my body.

 

A different high than being with Merlin.

 

_ I remember missing Merlin. _


End file.
